Like a Slap to the Face
by Gladrial10
Summary: Roxanne has just been through one of the worst nights of her life. It's time for a freakin' drink.


_Beta: RisqueSno_

_Disclaimer: All property of Dreamworks that I'm borrowing briefly for my entertainment. _

_Author Notes: I know the rain scene's been done to death, but I can do it better! …Actually, I'm hella nervous. I'm very comfortable writing for my main fandom (Batman) as I know the mythos inside and out, but I've honestly never written anything outside of it before and it's freaking me out! I mean, there's so much stuff out there for Batman to allow you to get to know everything and everyone thoroughly. For Megamind all I have to work with is one movie, a short, and a crap load of fan fics and I haven't read near the amount I need to in order to make this attempt. Unfortunately I never can seem to find the time to dig through all that's available from what I'm sure is a plethora of talented writers. Take it from me, being a responsible adult sucks, kids. Anyway, criticism and comments will be appreciated. _

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><p><span>Like a Slap to the Face<span>

Roxanne barely noticed the rain anymore. Her arms were wrapped around her for emotional comfort rather than fighting off the chill that subsequently comes with rain. It was all too much to process. Too much for one night. Without realizing it, she found that she had turned around to look back at the person who had just crushed her. Fleetingly, she realized that despite all the times Megamind had threatened her, this was the only time he'd been anything more than a nuisance toward her. He really was evil. More evil than she had ever realized.

Eventually it occurred to her that she wasn't moving and had been staring him down longer than she should be. Why had she turned around at all, for that matter? Quickly she told herself that she wanted to see him miserable, wanted to be sure her words had cut him. Indeed, he was walking away morosely. It didn't give her as much satisfaction as she wanted though, for reasons she didn't understand.

Frustrated and upset, Roxanne turned around abruptly and started heading home again. She failed to comment to her doorman, Carlos, as he opened the door for her, voicing concerns. She felt numb, too numb to answer why she didn't have an umbrella or why she looked upset.

She finally reached the safety of her home, but no sooner than she closed the door behind her did the day's events truly sink in. She found herself sobbing uncontrollably, her back leaning on the door for support. This was not at all how her evening was supposed to have gone. This is not at all how her _life _was supposed to have gone.

The numbness was so much better than this. She didn't want to think. She didn't want to feel. But she wasn't able to get herself back there no matter how much she tried. …There was a way to obtain that feeling artificially though. She hadn't done it in awhile, but tonight definitely called for it.

Now she had a plan of action, something to occupy her mind, and wiped away her tears with a renewed vigor. She quickly headed toward her bedroom closet and found the sexiest outfit she owned, relieved when it still fit as she hadn't worn it in years. Then she reapplied the makeup that the rain and tears had washed away, putting it on a little more thickly than usual. Satisfied with her appearance, she grabbed her purse and headed out again.

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><p>Carlos was surprised to see her determined expression as he flagged her a taxi, considering how upset she seemed not an hour ago. She didn't respond to his questioning eyes again. She'd apologize to him to later.<p>

Roxanne knew what she was doing wasn't the smartest way to deal with her problems. She'd probably be better off drowning her sorrows in a pint of ice cream while watching "_The First Wives Club_" or some such movie. She always tried to play life smart though and felt that she should be given a reprieve for one night, at least, to make a stupid mistake.

She was never one to frequent the club scene as much as her college friends, but she'd go with them from time to time before she graduated and became committed to her work. This train of thought led her to wish she wasn't such a workaholic and had kept in touch with some of those friends. Heading out tonight with someone would be much preferable than alone. Weren't girls supposed to complain to other girls about their guy trouble? Her reverie ended when she decided that few people could relate to a boyfriend that turned out to be a super villain with a holographic watch.

As she approached the entrance, she could already feel the vibration from the bass inside. The door was opened for her and the resulting volume from the dance music suddenly hitting her felt like an entity of its own for a moment.

The first thing she did was order a drink, which was really all she was after. Roxanne knew with them came the numbness she desired, however brief it might be. She supposed she could have done the same thing by heading for a smaller, quieter bar, but she never had been to one on her own before and felt more comfortable knowing where she was and what to expect. Besides, a bar would have been quiet…quiet enough to allow her to mull over her thoughts. Here, the music helped the drinks drown everything out. She ordered another.

During the short amount of time she downed her two drinks, two men had approached her, but she hadn't really taken notice, not feeling open to company nor being accustomed to it. They both had shrugged and taken off to look for another, more amiable companion. She was raising her hand to order a third drink when another man jumped in and did it for her.

"That's really not neces-," she began.

He cut her off with a smooth, "Can't a guy buy a drink for a pretty lady, anymore?"

She relented when the bartender handed her the beverage and set back to staring blankly ahead at nothing.

"Did you know that you're Roxanne Ritchi, the face of Metro City news?" the guy asked in a way she assumed was supposed to be cute.

"You don't say?" she responded dryly.

"Cheer up!" he shouted, because, well, you had to shout just about everything to be heard in there. "Why come to a party place if you don't want to party?"

"Good question," she admitted. She supposed it was silly expecting to be left alone by going to a place where people were expected to meet. But she recalled that she had been left alone the last couple of times she went there, at least by the male half of the crowd. That's why she stopped coming altogether. She had gone purposely to try and meet a guy or two, as no one seemed to approach her elsewhere, and only was greeted by girls asking about Metro Man… Suddenly, despite the drinks (or maybe because of them), something clicked into place.

She finally turned to face the man that was obviously more relentless than his previous two competitors. "You're the third guy that's approached me tonight," she commented.

"But I'm the only one still here," he returned smugly.

"Uh-huh. Do you mind if I ask you a question?" she asked slyly.

"Shoot," he confirmed with a confident air

"Would you have approached me before?" she challenged him.

He was genuinely confused. "…Before what, doll?"

"You know, before Metro Man died…was killed," she elaborated.

The guy snorted a scoffing chuckle. "I don't have a death wish, honey."

Roxanne threw her hands up in the air in revelation. Why hadn't she realized this before? No wonder she hadn't had a date in years! Who would dare compete with her supposed invincible lover? She laughed sadly at herself before turning back to him.

"So," she began, "You're using his death to your advantage."

The guy shrugged. "Is it working?"

"You're an asshole," she declared, but not wholeheartedly.

"Your drink is about empty. Want another?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh, I think I'll need it," she agreed and he flagged down the bartender while taking the seat next to her.

It didn't take much longer for the drinks to start taking affect and send her rambling, not that he minded much. He really wasn't paying attention to her words as much as he was the way she filled out her dress. He gathered she had just got out of bad relationship with some guy named Bernard. The details weren't important and he had no problem being the rebound guy. In fact, he rather preferred; it tended to lead to less commitment. She had paused in her dialogue again.

"What a bastard!" he commented, feeling safe with the response.

"I know, right!" she agreed vehemently, absently twirling the stem of her glass between her fingers. Abruptly she asked, "You want to get out of here?"

That, he had heard clearly. He honestly was surprised by the request as nothing physical had happened between them yet. He hadn't even been able to coax her onto the dance floor. "Sure," he said, staying as cool as possible, after which they got in a taxi together and headed to her place.

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><p>By the time they had actually reached her room, Roxanne was really beginning to second guess herself. She had sobered up slightly on the drive over. He, however, was ready to jump right in and reached for her once the door closed behind them.<p>

Wait!" she commanded louder than she intended to. "I, um, I would like to freshen up first if you don't mind. I smell like the club and-"

"I do too," he responded.

"I really would be more comfortable," she finished.

He shrugged in concession and she left for the shower, wanting the comfort it brought. As the warm water beat down, her head cleared up from the drunken haze she'd been in previously. It was nice to be able to vent to someone, even a stranger, but why on earth had she invited him home? Was she just desperate for some physical connection? It had been awhile, she reflected, but the panic she was feeling now certainly didn't indicate that was the answer. Was she trying to get back at Ber-Megamind? Whatever the reason, Roxanne concluded, she was regretting the decision.

She dried off, patting her hair with the towel, appreciating as always how easy and quickly her short hair dried off. It was one of the reasons she had adopted the style. Then she redressed and headed back to her company.

She was going to apologize and tell him to leave. She was going to blame her emotional state or the drinks or-

Her thought process broke off when she found the lights turned off in the living room. Did he turn off the lights? If he had, clearly he was very expectant of her and this was going to be harder than she thought. Where was he anyway? It was hard to see in the middle of the night with no light. All the things she was going to say suddenly escaped her and she was left with, "I think I need another drink."

Roxanne opened the door to her fridge and considered briefly using its light to locate him, but decided she really wasn't ready to face him yet. She grabbed the lone bottle of wine that had been sitting there untouched for weeks, uncorked it, poured herself a glass and downed it quickly.

There. The buzz was coming back now and she was feeling a bit braver. She poured herself another just to help it along when she heard a familiar, menacing voice.

"I think you've had enough," he said, not hiding his disgust.

She dropped the glass and heard it shatter against the tile. No, it couldn't be him. Not again. She turned around slowly and could make out his silhouette sitting in the corner chair. He reached up, turning on the adjacent lamp, before rising to his feet with flourish with…was that judgment in his eyes? Megamind, of all people, judging her was all the breaking point she needed.

She crossed the room swiftly with long strides before shoving him in the chest with both hands. He stumbled back slightly, not expecting the assault.

"How dare you come here! How dare you come here after what you did to me tonight!" She shoved him again and this time he fell back into the chair. "You have no right! No right at all after what you did!" She felt tears sting her eyes but held them back and let her anger slightly subside instead. "I was supposed to get laid tonight!" she admitted bitterly, talking more to herself than to him. "…Or at least have a heavy make out session," she sighed in exasperation.

"With him?" he verified angrily, rising to his feet again and brandishing a softly glowing blue cube in his hand.

"No! Not with _him_!" she returned pointedly.

"No?" he examined the cube curiously, before he realized what she was driving at. "Oh!" he exclaimed, happier than he should have.

She swiped the cube out of his hand. "And he has a name!" she declared, deciding he truly needed to be taken down a peg or two. "It's…It's…" She stared vacantly at the dehydrated man in her hand. "He has a name!" she repeated adamantly. "How did you know what I was doing anyway?" she demanded, quickly changing the subject. "Are you stalking me?"

"Of course not!" he replied, his tone indicating the notion was preposterous. "I just have your apartment bugged," he continued as though one had no connection to the other.

A look of disgust immediately covered her face. She shrieked and tried to cover herself with her arms as though she were standing there naked in front of him, all the while her face darting about the room in search of unseen cameras.

"It's not like that!" he reassured hastily. "It's just…how else was I supposed to know where you were when I kidnapped you?" he finished with an exaggerated shrug.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" she screeched.

He shrugged again. "Admittedly, I'm beginning to think that it's the tiniest bit possible that I may have some eessues. …Minor ones." He held his fingers close together, indicating a small space and the supposed minuteness of such 'issues'.

She growled audibly to no one in particular and stomped back into kitchen intending to pour herself another glass before recalling that it was in many pieces on the floor. She opened a cabinet more violently than necessary, securing another glass. "Tell me I've had enough again!" she dared him. "See what happens!"

He decided he'd rather not and began to realize that he was probably responsible to driving her to it anyway. He hadn't been sure what he hoped to accomplish by popping in like he had, but whatever it was he'd failed miserably…again.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that he was dejectedly making his way to the door, looking much the same way he did earlier that evening.

"That's right," she berated. "Just walk off again."

He paused with his hand on the door, sensing sarcasm in her voice but scarcely able to believe it. "…I'm sorry?" he asked for clarification.

"You should be sorry," she retorted self-righteously, slamming her glass down on the countertop and facing him once again. "I haven't been in a relationship in ages, all thanks to you and Metro Man! Yeah, just found out that little tidbit tonight."

He wasn't sure what she talking about, but decided interrupting her with questions may only infuriate her more.

"And then I finally meet someone and we really connect…" She felt the tears coming again, but didn't attempt to fight them back this time. "I really, really liked him," she cried, not being able to bring herself to say the name.

He thought about arguing that it was him all along or telling her that he felt the same way, but found himself only repeating an apology, which she chose to ignore.

"And then to top it all off, you didn't even have the guts to fight for me!" she finished, shoving him in the shoulder.

"Wait. …What?" he stammered. Admittedly, she had been drinking and wasn't being all that coherent but the way she looked at him indicated he was suppose to glean something important from her final statement. Unfortunately, the only thing he could assume she meant was impossible and most likely wishful thinking on his part. Hadn't she made her position very clear that night? Was he supposed to have tried to convince her otherwise? And how, when he really didn't have a leg to stand on?

All these questions where swimming through his brain when he was suddenly barraged with a fleet of brand new ones as she caught him completely by surprised in a sudden embrace, their lips meeting for the second time that evening. Her eyes were closed but his were wide open and darting back and forth frantically. This had to be some kind of trick…or a test and he was blowing it, but for the life of him he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing. Women really were as confusing as they say.

Just as suddenly as they had embraced she had released him, reeled back her arm, and slapped him smartly across the face. He wasn't sure whether he found the kiss or the sudden strike afterward more unexpected.

"Wait, wait! I'm really confused," he stated genuinely.

"That was for Metro Man," she clarified bitterly.

"Oh, I s-," he was interrupted by yet another embrace, but he decided to enjoy this one, sinking into her kiss and wrapping his arms around her. It was all too brief though, as she pulled away and he felt a familiar sting across his face once more.

"Cut that out!" he shouted, rubbing his cheek with a gloved hand.

"That was for the city!" she continued, undaunted.

"Okay, okay. I get i-mmphff." She had grabbed him rather violently that time and was kissing him more deeply than before. He wanted to enjoy it, but had the feeling she wasn't quite done with him yet.

She pushed him away harshly and quickly pulled back her hand. "And this," she asserted with tears in her eyes, "Is for leaving me in the rain."

She was going to hit him again and very hard this time. He could have dealt with that, but the confusion was killing him. He honestly had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. Was continuing this way allowing her to work through things? Was he supposed to respond in some manner? Was he taking advantage of her in some way? Anyway he looked at it, he knew the alcohol was making her act out of character and that prompted him to believe that sober Roxanne wouldn't want any of this.

This all went through his mind very quickly and resulted in pointing a can of his knock-out gas to her face. He cringed as her hand moved through the air in his direction, but she fell in a heap beneath him before it had made contact.

Megamind panted heavily in relief. "You're an angry drunk, you know that?" he informed her unconscious body as he caught his breath.

After he had a moment to compose himself, he scooped Roxanne up in his arms and laid her gently in bed. For a moment he gazed at her longingly and stroked her hair, feeling remorse at the stress and sorrow he had caused for her and how he could possibly repair the damage he'd done.

"You'll be fine," he said finally, thinking of his initial battle with Titan the next day. "We both will once everything gets back to normal."

He was reluctant to leave because it somehow felt as though he'd never see her again. He told himself that wasn't true. He would of course kidnap her from time to time as he used to. It would be under a new hero, true, but nothing said that anything had to be different between the two of them. He had said he was getting everything back to 'normal' but somehow he knew nothing would be normal between them ever again.

END

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><p><em>Author Notes: Usually the rain fics consist of angsty reflections but I thought "What did Roxanne actually do that night?" and basically came up with this. I really wanted this to work in canon with the movie and hope I was successful in doing so. If not, you can pretend it's AU; it won't hurt my feelings. Also, my apologies if Roxanne was slightly out of character; blame the demon alcohol. And finally, The First Wives Club is the best movie of all time for a woman to watch after heartbreak.<em>


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